History Lessons
by Harliquinn
Summary: After TO BE and NOT TO BE Duncan begins a new life, but it turns out to be much like the one he left behind. Warning: Contains disciplinary spanking of a teenager in later chapters. If that isn't your thing, don't read it. Rated T for violence and some foul language.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story was originally posted in 1999 on the Seventh Dimension Highlander fan fiction website. I decided to revise it for typos and for the flow of the story, but otherwise it remains very much like it was originally posted.

Synopsis: After TO BE and NOT TO BE Duncan begins a new life, but it turns out to be much like the one he left behind. Warning: Contains disciplinary spanking of a teenager in later chapters. If that isn't your thing, don't read it. Rated M for violence and some foul language.

Original Author's Note: This story takes place sometime after the end of HIGHLANDER: THE SERIES. The title for this story came from something Duncan MacLeod said repeatedly: those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. I wrote the story with no title in mind, but this just seemed to fit. There will be at least one sequel. Any ideas, comments or constructive criticisms are welcome.

This story is dedicated to the loving memory of my great-aunt, Earlie G "Gean" DeStephano (1929-1999). May you find peace and happiness, wherever you may be.

Now all that's out of the way...

**HISTORY LESSONS**

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod looked around his latest business venture. With a nod of satisfaction he headed toward the door to lock up and head home for the night. After leaving Paris following his encounter with Liam O'Rourke, when he had nearly given up his head in order to protect the lives of his friends Joe Dawson and Amanda, he'd wandered around the globe until finally settling in a mid-sized town near Chicago. He hadn't sensed any immortals in the area, and none of his friends knew of his whereabouts. That was just how Duncan wanted it. He was determined that his friends, mortal and immortal alike, would never again be used as pawns against him. He had recently purchased a storefront in the downtown business district and had turned it into an art gallery featuring the works of several undiscovered area artists. He'd also placed several of Tessa's works on display, knowing that he would never be able to part with any of them.

Duncan sighed as he closed and locked the door. He had a thousand things to do before the gallery opened in a week, and he was probably on number twenty. Duncan tensed as he sensed the barely discernable presence of a pre-immortal just before he felt a slight body bump into his back. He turned to see a teenage girl standing behind him. She giggled and muttered a slurred "excuse me" and proceeded to stagger down the street toward the corner. Duncan stood there watching her progress, shaking his head in disgust. Something pulled at his subconscious and he reached into his back pocket to check for his wallet. It was missing.

With a growl Duncan took off after the girl. At the sound of his footsteps, the girl dropped the pretense that she was high and took off running. Duncan caught her at the corner and, with a firm grip on her upper arm, pulled her into a nearby alley. The girl struggled against his hold. Duncan captured both her arms and pinned her against the building just inside the entrance to the alley.

"Stop it!" At the sound of the unquestionable authority in his voice, the girl stopped struggling and starred up at him with wary eyes. Duncan took a good look at the girl. She appeared to be in her mid-teens with dirty, lanky light brown hair, a dirt smudged face and ragged clothing.

"Okay, hand it over," Duncan ordered in the same authoritative voice.

"Hand what over? I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go."

"My wallet. Now. Either you hand it over, or I'll drag you to the nearest police station and turn you in for picking my pocket."

"I don't have your damned wallet. Let me go, or I'll start screaming."

"Go right ahead and I'll just explain how you bumped into me, stole my wallet and took off. I merely gave chase to retrieve my property." Duncan raked his eyes meaningfully over her. "Just whose story do you think they'll believe, hmmm?

"Okay. But I can't get it unless you let me go."

Duncan released his grip on her left arm, but maintained a firm hold on her right arm. He leveled a glare that had made many an immortal and mortal alike fear for their lives on the girl and held out his left hand, palm up. "Okay. I'm waiting."

"This would be a lot easier if you'd let go of my other arm."

"I don't think so. I suggest you hurry up, because I'm beginning to run out of patience."

The girl debated her options for a few seconds. Then she looked up into his face. Her eyes meet his, and what she saw there caused her to flinch. Duncan watched as the girl reached under the loose tail of her long shirt and pulled his wallet out of the front pocket of her blue jeans. "There, you've got your wallet back. Everything's there, I didn't take anything. So you can let me go now."

Duncan had watched as fear momentarily flickered in her eyes and over her face. He wondered if it was him she feared or someone else. He reached out and took his wallet from the girl's hand. When she shrank back as though she was trying to melt into the wall Duncan released her otherarm. "Stay put."

Duncan opened the wallet and browsed through the contents to verify that they were all there. He then removed one of his new business cards. "My name is Duncan MacLeod. I'm opening an art gallery, Undiscovered Treasures, down the street. If you ever need any help, give me a call orcome see me. I promise I'll do what I can. Although, it would be nice to know to whom I'm offering my assistance."

The girl just starred at MacLeod. "And what will you expect in return for your assistance? A free fuck, or maybe you're the kind of guy who likes to take pictures? Why should I come to you for help when I've got friends for that? Besides, I'm nobody's whore."

"I promise, it's nothing like that. Let's just say you remind me of a friend I haven't seen in a long time," replied Duncan, thinking of a young Richie Ryan. The young man had been introduced to the world of immortality when he had broken into Duncan and Tessa's antique store and witnessed the confrontation between Duncan, Slan Quince, and Duncan's kinsman, Connor MacLeod. "He had gotten himself into some trouble and needed a helping hand. I think you may be in the same situation. I might just be able to offer you a way off the streets, if you'll let me." With that, Duncan turned and walked out of the alley, leaving the girl to stare after him.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

MacLeod locked the door to his art gallery, and turned to walk the four blocks to Antonio's, the Italian restaurant where he'd decided to dine that evening. Business had been slow, but steady, since the opening of the gallery the week before. Several people had approached him with suggestions of artists he might want to consider displaying in the gallery.

He had met with one of the recommended artists, a sculptor who specialized in Native American art, earlier that day. Duncan's mind had wondered back to their meeting when the presence of an immortal brought his senses back to his surroundings. Thankful that he had never quite given up the habit of carrying his sword with him, he paused to look around and realized he was only a few yards away from the alley where he had confronted the young thief a couple of weeks earlier. Since he really didn't want to get into a situation where he might have to accept a challenge, Duncan started to continue on his way, until he heard voices raised in anger coming from the alley.

"I'm through giving you chances, Amber. I told you two weeks ago to bring me the gallery owner's wallet. Maybe the lesson I gave you after you got caught wasn't good enough. Maybe you need another one. When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. No excuses."

"But I tried, Snake, I really did. I haven't been able to get close to him again. Every time I try to sneak up on him, he looks around like he knows I'm there. Besides, I can't exactly go into the gallery without sticking out like a sore thumb. I need a little more time to come up with a plan.

Why does it have to be this guy's wallet, anyway? Lifting it is only going to cause trouble."

"You'll do as I tell you, without asking questions." Snake snarled before slapping Amber hard enough to knock her off her feet. He reached down to drag the girl back to her feet, but paused when he felt a strong buzzing sensation in his head and down his spine.

Before the echo of the slap had a chance to die away, Duncan MacLeod stepped into the entrance of the alley. If he was even slightly surprised to see the teenage girl he'd confronted two weeks earlier, it didn't show in his face. Standing above her was a thin young man, about twenty years old, dressed in a sweater and blue jeans. He had long, greasy black hair and a scar that curved along his right check from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. The scar had been enhanced with a tattoo that made it appear to be the reptile for which he was named.

Snake was standing hunched over with his hands pressed to his temples as though he was trying to keep his head from exploding. Duncan quickly realized this was the other immortal he'd sensed. He could help but briefly wonder if the other man knew exactly who and what he was.

"Why don't you try picking on someone your own size for once? Or is it that you can't find someone that small, hmmm?" He walked over, helped Amber to her feet and pushed her toward the alley entrance before turning back to confront Snake. Duncan pulled his katana from the inside of his full-length jacket and held it in front of his chest in a ready position, using his body to block Amber's view of the action.

"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. And you are?"

"Mister, you'd better stay out of what ain't your business. This is between me and the little bitch over there, so why don't you take your fancy toy and get the hell out of here."

"Boy, I'm afraid you made it my business the minute you hit the young lady. Now, I suggest you get out of here and never show your face around here again. Otherwise I might just have to do something about it, like removing your head from your shoulders."

"Cut my head off? Are you fucking crazy or something?" Snake reached into the top of his right his boot and pulled out a gun. "I'll kill you before you even get close enough to try it."

Duncan sighed heavily. He was in no mood for this. In a move too quick to see Duncan knocked the gun from Snake's hand and threw him to the ground. He reached down with one hand and grabbed the front of the other man's shirt and pulled him to his feet. With his other hand, Duncan held the tip of his katana to his throat. A trickle of blood appeared where the sharp blade had nicked his skin.

In a deadly calm voice that belied the rage he was feeling, Duncan said, "You have no idea what you are, do you? Well, I'm not going to play teacher. I suggest you disappear. Don't ever cross my path again. If I even hear your name whispered in my presence, I'll hunt you down and teach you a lesson you'll never forget." He gave the other immortal a hard shake to emphasize the clear meaning of his words. "One more little bit of advice, I'd pay attention to that headache if I were you. You never know when you may lose your head because of it." Duncan then threw Snake toward the alley entrance and stood watching as Snake scrambled to his feet and took off running up the street.

So much for a quiet dinner out, Duncan thought as he walked over to where the girl was huddled against the wall.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked as he took in the faded bruises around the girl's neck, the rapidly darkening bruise on her cheek, and the blood welling up from a cut on her arm.

"Um, no, I'm okay. I've survived worse. You should have left it alone. All you did was make it worse. He'll only be angrier, and he'll take it out on me. Thanks a lot, Mister." Amber started to walk away, but only got a few feet before she collapsed.

Duncan caught Amber before she fell flat on her face in the dirty alleyway. He picked her up in his arms and started back toward the art gallery. "I thought you said you were okay."

"I am, put me down." She started to struggle, but Duncan only tightened his grip. "I have to get back to the house to try and smooth things over with Snake. I've got to try and calm him down before he takes his anger out on any of the others. Some of them aren't that strong. They can't stand up to him. Please, let me go."

"I'm taking you to the gallery. I'll take a look at that cut on your arm and the bruise on your face. I probably ought to take you to the emergency room, but for some reason I doubt you'd agree to go. Besides, I don't think Snake will be around to bother you much longer."

"Let me go!" Amber said as she once again began to struggle in Duncan's arms. "Snake will come after me if for no other reason than I was the reason you embarrassed him. He won't let that go. He'll take it out on me, and then he'll come after you."

When they reached the gallery Duncan sat Amber on her feet, but kept a firm grip on her arm as he unlocked the door. He led her through the gallery to the small kitchen area in the back. Pushed her down into a chair next to the small table, he ordered, "stay put, I'll be back in a minute."

He gathered a clean dishtowel filled with crushed ice, a second clean dishtowel and a bowl of warm soapy water and returned to set them on the table next to Amber. Duncan pulled the remaining chair around and sat down in front of her. He handed her the ice-filled towel and instructed her to hold it against her bruised cheek. He then picked up her arm and proceeded to clean it with the dishtowel and soapy water. "I wish I had some antiseptic to put on this cut. Anyway, I don't think it's as bad as I initially thought. I might be able to find some ibuprofen if you want any." He was sure he'd seen some in the first aid kit he'd felt compelled to purchase a few days earlier.

Amber just sat and starred at Duncan as he continued with his ministrations. "Why are you doing this? You heard what Snake said, I was supposed to rob you. I almost succeeded once. Why didn't you call the police?"

When Duncan finished cleaning the cut on her arm, he sat back in his chair and took a good look at Amber. He would find the first aid kit and bandage her arm after they had a little talk.

"I'll deal with Snake. You don't have to worry about him. Like I told you a few weeks ago, you remind me a lot of a young friend of mine. Richie and I first met when I caught him breaking into my antique store. I saw through his tough-guy exterior to the scared and angry young man who was full of potential. Instead of pressing charges against him, I offered him a job and a chance to turn his life around. I may be willing to do the same for you, but you'll have to meet me half way. This isn't a hand out. You will have to earn whatever I do for you. However, I have a few questions I want answered first."

"Like what?"

"Let's start off with the basics, Amber. That is your name, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, Amber, what's your last name and how old are you? Why are you living on the streets?"

"What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"

Duncan sighed. "Just answer the questions, and I want the truth."

It was Amber's turn to sigh as she slumped down in her chair. She threw Duncan a mutinous look before saying, "My full name is Amber Leigh Miller. I'm sixteen, and I've been living on the streets for about six months, ever since I ran away after my foster father tried to rape me. I refuse to go back, so don't even think about it. I'll just run away again if you try and make me go. I can take care of myself, and I don't need any help from you or anyone else."

Duncan knew he had to be careful in his approach. If he scared her away, she would wind up back on the streets. There she'd be an easy target for any immortal strong enough to sense her. There were many of his kind who didn't have any compunction against killing children or pre-immortals for the easy quickening.

"Yeah, I can see how well you can take care of yourself," he said sarcastically, looking pointedly at her bruised cheek. "Look, I'm not going to turn you over to Social Services, but I do want to help you. For right now, all I'm offering is a meal and a warm bed for the night. We can talk about my offer in the morning. If you're interested, fine. But if you're not, you're free to go. I promise I have no ulterior motives."

Amber studied Duncan's face. She'd gotten pretty good at reading people over the last six months, and she didn't see anything other than concern etched on his hard features. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent meal, and the thought of spending the night someplace where she didn't have to keep one eye open was too appealing to resist. Besides, she thought, she could always take off if he tried anything.

"All right, I'll go with you. Not that I trust you or anything. I'll be keeping an eye on you, so don't think you can try anything. First sign of anything funny, and I'm out of there. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. I would expect nothing less."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Duncan pulled the Thunderbird into the driveway of a modest two-story house located at the end of a secluded, tree-lined street. Amber got out of the car and looked at her surroundings. The house looked a little run-down, but there were buckets of paint and drop cloths piled on the front porch, and the wooden porch steps looked brand new. All in all, it didn't appear to be such a bad place to spend the night.

Duncan watched Amber's face as she took in his house and its surroundings. "It was in pretty bad shape when I bought it a few months ago, but I've got the inside and the porch all fixed up. I hope to get started on painting it before too long. Come on inside."

Once in the house, Duncan ushered Amber into the living room and pointed to the staircase leading to the second floor. "You can take a shower if you'd like. The bathroom's the second door on the left. Towels are in the cabinet under the sink. I'll put some clothes you can change into outside the door. Put your dirty ones out in the hallway. I'll put them in the washer. When you're done, come to the kitchen. I'll get dinner started."

Amber nodded absently, taking in the furnishings filling the room. Even with her untrained eye, she recognized a number of them as valuable antiques. She started up the stairs to hunt out the bathroom. A shower sounded like a good idea. She couldn't remember the last time she had been really clean. Most of the time she did the best she could with a wet paper towel in a grungy public restroom. Finding the bathroom just where Duncan had said it would be, she quickly shed her dirty clothes. As she reached for the faucets to turn on the shower, she heard a knock on the door.

"I'm putting a pair of sweats and a T-shirt in front of the door for you. I'll come back up in a bit to get your dirty clothes. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour or so. There's also a hair dryer under the sink if you want to use it."

Amber turned on the faucets and adjusted the temperature. While she was waiting for the water to warm up she took a good look at herself in the mirror hanging above the sink. It was no wonder MacLeod thought she needed a keeper. She looked like she'd been dead a week but someone just forgot to tell her. She fingered the purpling bruise on her cheek and winced at the pain that shot through her face. She'd have to remember to ask for some Advil and another ice pack when she went to the kitchen.

She stayed in the shower until the water began to grow cold. It was so nice to feel clean again. She quickly dressed. The tail of the t-shirt came almost to her knees, and the sleeves hung well past her elbows. It was a good thing the sweats had a drawstring waistband, or there would be no way they would have stayed in place. Like the sleeves of the shirt, the pant legs were several inches too long. These were rolled up several times.

Amber almost laughed at the thought that she looked like a kid playing dress-up. It had been so long since she'd felt like laughing that the feeling was strange. To keep herself from dwelling on it, she quickly combed the tangles out of it as well as she could with her fingers and then blew it dry with the hair dryer she found lying on a shelf above the towels.

She decided to explore the second floor of the house before heading downstairs. The first room she explored was across the hall from the bathroom and appeared to be MacLeod's bedroom. Like the living room downstairs, it was furnished with what she instinctively recognized as heavy antiques. The second bedroom, next door to MacLeod's room, was sparsely furnished with a bed and dresser. Amber opened the last door to find a third bedroom that had been converted into a home gym. There was a weight machine in one corner, a rack along one wall containing some type of poles of varying lengths, and hanging around the room were at least ten swords. Some were hanging in matched pairs, while others were hanging singly.

Amber's stomach rumbled and she quickly made her way downstairs. She followed the mouth-watering smells to the kitchen and found MacLeod standing in front of the stove, stirring something in a steaming pot. She could have sworn she hadn't made a sound, but as soon as she entered the room MacLeod turned and looked in her direction.

"There you are. I was beginning to think you had gotten lost." He nodded in the direction of the kitchen table. "Go ahead and sit down. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes. I fixed spaghetti since I figured you might have trouble chewing because of that bruise. All I have to drink is water or orange juice. Which would you like."

Amber, feeling a little overwhelmed, sat down at the table and looked around the kitchen. "Huh, what did you say?"

"Do you want water or orange juice to drink with your spaghetti?"

"Water, please."

The next morning Amber awoke warm and comfortable for the first time in recent memory. She felt a momentary sense of panic until she realized where she was. After making use of the bathroom facilities, she finger combed the tangles out of her hair and used her finger and some toothpaste to brush her teeth.

She entered the kitchen, only to find Duncan standing in front of the stove fixing breakfast. He looked up as she entered the room and turned back to the stove. "Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Help yourself to some orange juice and have a seat."

Less than five minutes later, Duncan placed a plate filled with scrambled eggs, toast and bacon in front of Amber and took the seat across from her. They ate in companionable silence. The only sounds to be heard were silverware scraping against plates and the dull thud of glasses being placed back on the table. When they were finished, Duncan stood and carried the plates to the sink. He turned at looked at Amber for several seconds before saying, "Your clothes are folded on top of the dryer, in case you'd like to get dressed before we talk. If you'd rather talk first and then get dressed, that's no problem."

"I'll go ahead and get dressed."

"Okay, I'll put the dishes in the dishwasher then get dressed myself. I'll meet you back here in about twenty minutes. How's that sound?"

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later, they were once again sitting at the kitchen table.

Duncan looked into Amber's face and said, "If you'll remember, yesterday I mentioned I had an offer to make you. Well, now it's time to make it. I'll give you a job, a place to live and a chance to turn your life around. In return, you will finish high school and work part-time in my gallery."

"Let me see if I've got this straight. You'll let me live here, and all I have to do is go to school and work part-time in your gallery. That's too easy, what's the catch?" Amber was suspicious. Nobody was going to offer what McLeod just had simply out of the goodness of their heart. Surely he didn't think she was stupid enough to fall for it. He had to have an ulterior motive, but damned if she could spot it.

"The only catch, as you put it, is that I'll be acting as your legal guardian." Duncan leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. "That means there will be rules regarding your behavior and what will and will not be allowed. You will be expected to follow them. You appear to be intelligent, so you will also be expected to maintain decent grades at school. I also expect you to be honest with me at all times. The one thing I absolutely will not tolerate is being lied to."

"Wait just a damned minute here," Amber nearly panicked as a sudden thought occurred to her. "If I even agree to this scheme of your, for you to become my legal guardian you'll have to go through Social Services. I told you once I'd run if you even hinted at turning me over to them." Her one and only experience with the system hadn't been good. She was in no hurry to repeat it. "You promised you wouldn't. So how do you propose to become my legal guardian without going through the system? And how do I know what you're telling me is on the up and up? For all I know, you could be setting me up as slave labor or something."

Duncan nodded once to acknowledge her concerns. He stood and made his way over to the counter, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. Resuming his seat at the table, he continued, "if you agree to my proposal, I will obtain papers naming me as your legal guardian - without going through Social Services. Before you ask, how I intend to do that is none of your concern. It's enough for you to know that they will pass any inspection they may be put through. As for all this being on the up and up, well I guess you'll just have to take my word for it. After all, if I had anything but honorable intentions, wouldn't you say I've had plenty of opportunities to take advantage of the situation?"

She continued to study Duncan's face, looking for even the smallest sign that he wasn't beig honest with her. What he was offering sounded too good to be true. She'd learned the hard way to be wary when made an offer that was that appealing – there was usually a catch.

"What's in it for you?" she asked, still suspicious.

"Nothing," Duncan responded immediately. He shrugged his shoulders. "I like to help people." Well, that wasn't exactly true, he thought. He wanted to protect her from being prey for the less scrupulous of his kind. Plus, he didn't think he could handle seeing another young person become immortal well before their time. But, none of this was something he could tell Amber – at least not yet. "I have a friend who calls me Boy Scout." That was true, but not for the reason he was implying.

Amber still wasn't completely convinced. Making up her mind, she stated, "okay, I'll try it out for a while and see how it works."

"That's all I'm asking."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for the reviews. It's been interesting to revisit some of my early fanfiction efforts, and I'm glad you are enjoying them.

I hadn't intended to so more than edit and do so minor re-writes. However, when I started working on this section, I was far from satisfied with what I had written. I'll leave it to you to figure out what's new and what was original.

Warning: This chapter contains the disciplinary spanking of a teenager. If this offends you, please do not read it.

Again, if you like my efforts, please review. I also welcome constructive criticism.

**CHAPTER 2**

A few months later . . .

Duncan prowled the gallery's showroom. There weren't any customers at the moment, and he was feeling restless. Something was going on with Amber, and had a bad feeling about what it was. They had settled into an easy relationship. He had produced paperwork naming him as legal guardian of his niece, Amber Leigh Miller. She was attending school, and working at the gallery after school three days a week and half a day on Saturday.

He pulled an antique pocket watch from the front pocket of his trousers. Flipping it open, glanced at the time as his expression hardened. Earlier that day he had received a telephone call from the assistance principal at Amber's high school inquiring as to why she wasn't in class that day. Further conversation revealed that this wasn't the first day she had missed. Now she was more than half an hour late for work.

Duncan had driven around town to look for her. She wasn't in any of the places he'd figured she might be hanging out. Finally, he had decided his best option was to wait for her to show up at the gallery. As he continued to pace, visions of what might be happening filled his mind, causing his temper to worsen by the second. When tinkling bells signaled the opening of the gallery's front door, Duncan turned on his heel to watch Amber enter.

"Where th' hell hae ye bin?" he demanded. His Scottish brogue was so thick with temper that Amber almost didn't understand him.

"Out." She headed toward the back of the store to stash her purse and backpack. Since there weren't any customers, she figured she'd be spending the afternoon dusting. God, she thought, she could easily go crazy in this job.

She didn't get far before Duncan grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. "Out where?"

Amber flinched at the anger she heard in his voice and saw on his face. He'd been angry with her before, but he'd never been this angry. For the first time since she met Duncan, she was afraid of him. She would be damned if she let him see that, though. That was one lesson she'd learned when dealing with Snake – never let them see your fear. "What does it matter to you? I'm here now, aren't I?"

Duncan started to respond, but a shadow crossing the front display window caught his attention. Mere seconds passed before the door opened, and two well-dressed women entered. "I'll be with you in just a moment," he called across the front room, flashing them his most charming smile. Maintaining his hold on her arm, he drew Amber through the doorway to the offices and storeroom. "Go home. We will discuss this later." He released her arm and stepped back.

"Yeah, whatever."

Duncan grasped Amber's chin in his large hand and tilted her head up until her eyes met him. "I will be home within the hour. You had best be there when I do. I also suggest you lose the attitude, or you won't like the consequences."

Amber glared at him, but hitched her bags back on her shoulder and headed back into the gallery. Duncan followed, watching as she glanced in the direction of the two women before jerking the door open and stomping out.

"Did we come at a bad time?" one of the ladies asked as he approached.

"Not at all," he replied as the charming smile returned to his face. "Just a misunderstanding between my niece and I."

"Your niece?" the other lady asked, a little skeptically.

"Yes, my younger brother's daughter. Unfortunately, he and his wife were killed in a car wreck about six months ago. I'm raising her now." The story he had concocted to explain Amber's presence rolled easily off his tongue. He gave a short laugh as he continued, "we still have some issues to work out."

"That poor child," the first woman stated as she shared a look with her friend. "Well, I'm sure everything will work out in the end."

"Yes," Duncan agreed, "I'm sure it will. Now, what can I help you ladies with this afternoon?"

It was a little more than a hour later before Duncan was able to close the gallery and head home. The two women, who had turned out to be sisters, had both purchased fairly expensive sculptures from an up and coming local artist. During the short drive home, he contemplated how he was going to deal with Amber. For one of the few times in his long life, he felt totally out of his element. In the last hundred years or so, his only experience with a rebellious teenager had been the year or so Richie had lived with Duncan and Tessa. Then he had Tessa's help in handling whatever problems cropped up. Usually all it took to straighten the young man out was a stern lecture, but he didn't think that would work with Amber.

Duncan knew, even before he entered the house, that Amber wasn't there. He didn't know why that particular fact surprised him. All he knew was that when he got his hands on her, the girl was going to sorely regret her disobedience. Deciding to see if he could find her, he turned to leave the house.

When Duncan reached the front door he felt the presence of another immortal. He stepped cautiously through the door, looking for the source of the buzz that had coursed its way down his spine. He spotted a sedan parked less than a block away. Snake sat in the driver seat, holding his head in his hands. Duncan quickly reached for his long coat hanging on the coat rack behind the door, and after checking to verify that his katana was in place he pulled the coat on and started to approach the sedan. Snake must have spotted him coming, because he snapped out of his trance-like state, gunned the engine and sped off down the street, leaving Duncan standing there starring after him.

Duncan quickly got into the thunderbird and followed at a discrete distance. The closer they came to the seedier section of town, the angrier Duncan became. Something in his gut told him Snake was going to lead him to wherever Amber had gone.

When the Snake parked the car in front of the seediest looking bar Duncan had seen in a long time Duncan drove past and parked the Thunderbird a couple of blocks away. He watched as Snake got out of the car and entered the bar. His temper was now at a slow boil. He was determined that if Amber were in that bar, he'd drag her out – over his shoulder if necessary.

Duncan was almost to the bar when the immortal buzz once again coursed down his spine. He reached inside his full-length duster, placed his hand on the hilt of the katana and looked around in an attempt to identify his fellow immortal. He doubted it was Snake, since he had entered the bar. The street was crowded with cars, and there were several people hanging out on the street corners. Duncan finally spotted a man standing off by himself in a doorway about 100 feet away. The man was rather short and slender and appeared to be in his mid to late twenties.

"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and I have no quarrel with you."

"Ah, yes, the Highlander. I heard you had disappeared. I am Austin Nero, and I am glad be the one to have found you. I was after the reptile boy, but this is even better. As they say, there can be only one. Shall we see if you are as good as the legends say you are?"

As much as he disliked killing, especially killing another immortal in the age-old game they all played, MacLeod almost looked forward to the coming battle. Maybe he would work off some of his anger in the fight. If he was the victor, he could always give Nero the option of walking away. If he lost... "Okay, Nero, if you're so eager to die, I accept your challenge.

Let's find someplace private and get on with it. I have other things to do."

Nero paused at the almost eager tone in MacLeod's voice. "I know an alley not far from here. We should have enough privacy there. Follow me."

The fight was short, but brutal. Nero began his attack almost as soon as MacLeod entered the alley. Duncan barely had time to shrug out of his coat before starting his defense. Nero's fighting style relied on his small stature for quickness. Nero easily dodged under MacLeod's defenses; his sword opening deep bloody cuts on MacLeod's torso. When he began to tire,

Nero pulled a gun and aimed it at the Highlander's chest.

Angered at his opponent's dirty trick, Duncan kicked the gun from Nero's grasp. As the gun flew through the air to land in a garbage heap about six feet away, Duncan's katana enveloped Nero's sword and pulled it from the smaller immortal's grasp, sending it flying. A solid punch to the stomach brought Nero to his knees with Duncan's sword at his throat.

"It doesn't have to be like this. You can walk away. Just give me your word that you'll leave town, and I'll let you live."

"Go to Hell, MacLeod. You know the rules. There can be only one. Finish it!"

Nero lunged for his sword. But before he could reach it, MacLeod's deadly katana sliced through his neck. The quickening was intense; blowing out windows in the abandoned buildings that created the alley and knocking out nearby streetlights. After it was over, MacLeod pulled himself to his feet, using the katana as leverage. He looked down at his sweater and discovered

several bloody tears where Nero had managed to sneak through his defenses. "Damn it." Between his torn and bloody sweater and the after effects of the Quickening, he was in no condition to storm into the bar to see if his suspicions were correct. He would just have to go home to change and pray that nothing happened before he could return.

Duncan heard sirens wailing in the distance; their sound coming closer by the second. He paused only long enough to pick up Nero's sword and pull on his coat before leaving the alley and making his way back to the Thunderbird. In the back of his mind he wondered if there was a watcher somewhere nearby who would arrange to clean up the mess. Just great, he thought, exasperated with himself. Now Joe will learn where he was and would probably show up before too long.

Upon reaching the car, MacLeod looked up the street to where he had last seen the dark sedan. It was no longer parked in front of the bar. He climbed into the car and pounded his fist on the steering wheel in frustration before starting the car and heading for home.

After taking a much-needed shower, Duncan poured himself a Scotch and stood in the dark kitchen, trying to decide what to do next. His gut told him that even if Amber had been in that bar, she wasn't there now. He couldn't shake the feeling that she had left with Snake in the sedan.

It was nearly midnight when Duncan decided he had no choice but to go back out and cruise around, trying to catch the immortal buzz that would lead him to Snake – and hopefully to Amber. He had just grabbed his keys from the hall table where he'd tossed them when he heard footsteps on the front porch.

The door opened, and Amber stumbled through it. The screen door slamming behind her. "Shhhh! Don't wanna wake Uncle Duncan up," she turned and said in the direction of the door. She giggled then closed the storm door with a loud thump. "Oops."

MacLeod switched the kitchen lights back on, drawing Amber's attention. When she finally looked up and saw him standing there, arms crossed over his chest and feet planted shoulder-width apart, Amber stumbled back against the door. "Uh-oh." She couldn't see the expression his face, as he was backlit by the kitchen lights, but she knew he was angry.

Duncan took a long look at Amber and practically growled, "come here!" A few seconds passed. When Amber made no move to obey him, he said in a deceptively calm voice, "I said come here. Now!"

Amber pushed herself off the door and walked unsteadily toward Duncan. As she neared him he detected the sour smell of cheap whiskey that almost hid the odor of marijuana. When she was close enough, he took her arm in a firm grasp and pulled her into the light. With a firm grip on her jaw, Duncan tilted her face up into the light until he could see into her eyes. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the brightness. "Move your hand." Just as he thought, her pupils were dilated to the point that they nearly obscured the green of her irises. Duncan knew full well that it had nothing to do with the fact that she had just come in from a dark room.

Without saying a word, Duncan escorted Amber from the kitchen, up the stairs to her bedroom, keeping an almost bruising grip on her arm the entire way. Amber practically had to run to keep up with his long, angry strides. At the door to her bedroom Duncan pulled Amber around to look at him. "Go to bed, Amber. We'll talk about this in the morning. By the way, you're grounded for month. Although, I doubt you'll remember that in the morning."

As late as it was, Duncan was too angry to sleep. He changed into a pair of sweats and went to the extra bedroom he'd turned into a dojo, where he worked out his anger by doing katas until his muscles trembled from exhaustion. Hoping he would now be able to get at least a few hours of sleep, he showered and went to bed.

He awoke at dawn, as was his usual habit. In a bad mood due to lack of sleep and the memories from the night before he quickly dressed and went downstairs to put on a pot of coffee. He paused outside of Amber's door, fighting the urge to jerk her out of bed and have it out with her then and there.

A couple of hours and several cups of strong, black coffee later Duncan's patience was at an end. He went upstairs and found Amber sprawled across her bed, completely dressed in her clothes from the night before. He shook her awake and ordered her to be downstairs in half an hour. After warning her that she would not like the consequences if he had to come back upstairs

after her, Duncan returned to the kitchen to start breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, Amber stumbled into the kitchen, holding a hand to her head, and looking very much like death warmed over. She sat down at the table and Duncan placed a bottle of aspirin and a large glass of orange juice in front of her. "Drink it. Breakfast will be ready in a minute."

"Duncan, if you don't care, I think I'll skip breakfast this morning."

"Fine, it's your choice whether you eat or not. But either way, you will sit there until I'm finished. Then we're going to talk about last night," Duncan said as he sat down at the table and dug into a plate filled with scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Amber swallowed convulsively as her stomach churned at the sight of the food. Duncan didn't miss her shudder as he lifted a fork full of eggs to his mouth. "Food's on the stove if you want some."

After he finished his meal and cleaned up the breakfast mess Duncan turned to Amber. She was sitting at the table, looking like she wanted nothing more than for the world to open up and swallow her. He could see her gathering her courage to face him. "I guess I'm in big trouble. I don't remember everything about last night, but I do seem to remember you dragging

me to my room then telling me I was grounded.

Duncan leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're right, you're in big trouble. What you did last night totally eclipses everything else you've done in the time since you moved in here. I want to know what's going on. I figure you've been testing your boundaries to see how far you could push me. Well, Amber Leigh, you've pushed me too far this time." The volume of his voice rose with each word. The Scottish brogue that only appeared when he was extremely angry began creeping into his speech.

No longer able to stand quietly, he began pacing back and forth across the kitchen. His hand went into motion, accenting his words with sharp movements. "You want to tell me what the Hell you were doing last night? While you're at it, you want to explain to me why Snake was parked outside this house and why you were in the Beaver's Den last night?"

Amber's flinch when Duncan said the name of the bar confirmed his suspicions. Duncan halted his pacing in front of Amber's chair. He placed one hand on the table and one on the back of her chair and towered over her, leaning down until his face was only inches from hers. "I'm waiting," he said, his voice icily calm.

Amber was slumped in her chair with her elbow propped against the table, her aching head cradled in her hand. She was already in a bad mood because of her hangover, and Duncan's tirade was only making it worse. A little voice in the back of her mind urged her to be meekly obedient and answer his questions without smarting off to him. Ignoring her inner voice's warning, Amber glared at the Highlander. "Why don't you just go to hell, Mr. High and Mighty Duncan MacLeod. You're not my father. Hell, you're not even really my legal guardian. I don't have to answer to you. This arrangement was your idea. I'm just in it for the free benefits. What I do with my time is none of your damned business. I told you when we started this arrangement that I'd walk anytime I wanted to. Well, get out of my way and I'll walk."

Duncan was literally seeing red by the time Amber finished speaking. He straightened and went to lean against the counter with his back to Amber, trying to control his raging temper. He could not remember ever being that angry with anyone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amber jump up out of her chair and start toward the kitchen door in an attempt to escape. Duncan turned just in time to stop her flight by grabbing her arm as she passed.

"I don't think so," he said in a chillingly quiet voice. "I've had it with you and your rebellious attitude. I may not be your father, or really your legal guardian, as you put it, but it is quite obvious that you need someone to look after you." He paused to pull Amber around until she stood face to face with him. "Or could it be that all you need is a little good old fashioned discipline? Yes, that may be just what you need."

As a slow smile crossed Duncan's face at the thought of the satisfaction he would gain from what he was about to do, Amber's face took on an expression like that of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She struggled against his hold on her arm as he pulled her toward the table.

"No! Let me go. You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I? I warned you once what would happen if you pushed me too far. Well, you've definitely pushed me too far this time, and now you are about to reap the rewards of your actions. Besides, it seems to me that you've had this coming for a long time now."

Duncan grunted as Amber kicked him in the shin, but didn't hesitate to kick a chair away from the table. He sat down and pulled a still struggling Amber face down across his thighs. She tried to pull away and roll off his lap. When that didn't work, she started landing punches on whatever part of his anatomy she could reach. Duncan captured her flailing arms, and held them

pinned to the small of her back with one hand. "I think I'm almost going to enjoy this." The palm of his other hand descended sharply against Amber's backside. He repeated the sharp smacks until the palm of his hand felt as if it were on fire. He felt a momentary twinge of regret when he thought of how her backside must feel.

He released her arms. Amber shoved herself up off his thighs and stood up. Duncan got to his feet and stood right in front of her.

"You son of a bitch."

"Watch your language, or I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

Amber started to raise her knee with every intention of shoving it into his groin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I might decide that I stopped too soon and pick up where I left off. Sit down, I'm not finished with you yet." Duncan pushed Amber down into the chair he had recently vacated. He flinched inwardly when he saw the pained look that flashed across Amber's face when her backside came into contact with the wooden seat. He was already regretting his rash action, but he knew he couldn't back down now. Maybe now he would be able to through to Amber and find out what was going on with her. He pulled another chair around and sat down to face her.

They sat glaring at each other for several minutes. Finally, Duncan sighed, more calm than he was before. " Help me out here, I'm trying to understand why you have anything to do with Snake, much less to that part of town. I thought you were happy here. So what's going on? What did you think you were trying to prove when you came home last night drunk and stoned?"

Amber just sat there glaring at Duncan. After what just happened, she'd be damned if she answered any of his questions.

Duncan sighed. "If you don't want to talk, fine, but you're going to listen to what I have to say." He paused to take a deep breath and calm himself down. "I took you in and gave you a chance to leave that kind of life behind you. You've taken that chance and tossed it aside like so much garbage. I can understand the breaking curfew and skipping school as teenage rebellion, but I would have thought you'd have stayed as far away from your old life, especially Snake, as possible."

Amber started to say something, but stopped when Duncan held up his hand. "Let me finish. If you keep hanging out with Snake your life is going to become exactly what you tried so desperately to avoid. When I met you, he already had you stealing for him. It would only have been a matter of time before he had you selling drugs or yourself. You may think that you're immune from that now, but if you continue to associate with him, it's only a matter of time until something like that happens."

"Now, I think you should go to your room and think about what I've said. When you're ready to have a civilized discussion about what's going on, come look for me."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. I've enjoyed going back and seeing some of my past work, and I'm glad you've liked it as well.

**CHAPTER 3**

A few hours later, Duncan was in his office working on the gallery's books when Amber knocked on the door.

"Duncan, are you busy?"

"No, not at all." He stood and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. Gesturing toward the chairs arranged to face his desk he invited her to have a seat.

Amber grimaced and rubbed her backside before saying, "I think I'll stand if you don't mind."

Duncan smiled slightly and nodded his agreement. He moved into a more comfortable position with his hip leaning against the front of his desk. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

Amber sighed, unsure where to start. "I guess I should apologize for the way I've been behaving lately. You were right when you said I nearly tossed away the chance to turn my life around. I know nothing I say can excuse my actions, but I'd like to try and explain them."

"Go right ahead, Amber. I'm ready to listen to anything you have to say." He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, hoping his relaxed pose would encourage her to talk.

She glanced over at one of the nearby overstuffed upholstered chairs and wondered briefly if sitting there would be as unpleasant she thought it would be. Deciding to remain on her feet, she shrugged. "I am happy here, probably happier than I've ever been. I mean, you've given me the chance to be me. You don't criticize every little thing I do or yell at me when I made stupid mistakes. And I could talk to you about anything, well almost anything." Amber paced back and forth across the room as she talked, pausing occasionally to meet Duncan's gaze. "Deep down inside I was afraid it was all just a wonderful dream and that one day I'd wake up and it would have all ended. You know what I mean?" When Duncan nodded his understanding, she continued. "Then one day I ran into Snake a couple of blocks from school. It was the first day I was late for work. He was waiting for me and wouldn't leave me along until I agreed to listen to what he had to say. He told me he'd been following me and knew all about my new life."

She stopped pacing and came to stand directly in front of Duncan. "He threatened to tell everybody what I really was - a runaway and a thief. He said he'd make sure everybody believed I'd been nothing but a whore and a junky who'd do anything for my next fix. He wanted me to steal a piece from the gallery and turn it over to him in exchange for his silence. I agreed only because it was the only way I could think of to get away from him. I was afraid to tell you because I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. And I couldn't steal from you, not after everything you've done for me. So I started giving him all the money from my paychecks

in hopes that would satisfy him. It worked for a little while, but he started demanding more. I found a second part-time job. I lied on the application. I told them I was eighteen and had graduated from high school. I don't know whether the guy believed me or if he just didn't care..."

"Just where was this second job of yours?"

"It was, um, at The Bull Pen," she said, naming the very same bar where Duncan had followed Snake. "I only waited tables, I swear." Amber took a step back when she saw the expression on Duncan's face. She wasn't about to tell him that the bar was really a unlicensed strip club.

Duncan immediately came to his feet; the expression on his face changed rapidly from disbelief to astonishment to anger. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when no words would come. Several tense seconds went by before he yelled. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you know what could have happened to you in a place like that, much less what would have happened if the cops had found out? I swear if I hadn't already worn you out once this morning . . . ." He stopped abruptly and visibly grasped hold of his temper. "All right, go on."

"That's why I kept missing school and work and breaking curfew. I couldn't exactly tell Marco that I had to be home at midnight, or that I couldn't work during the day because I had to go to school. Anyway, the money seemed to keep Snake happy until yesterday. I was working at the bar when he came in and threatened me again. He said he'd had enough of the penny ante shit I'd been paying him." When Duncan raised an eyebrow at her language, she quickly continued, "his word, not mine. Anyway, he said he'd tell everything unless I did what he said."

She turned her back to Duncan and shuddered when she thought about what Snake had asked of her. "You were right. He wanted me to sell my body to make money for him. He said that he would keep my secret if I'd go to work for him. His take would be 60 percent of what I made. He said he'd give me a few days to think about it, and left. It wasn't long after he'd left that I started feeling funny."

Turning back to face Duncan, she went on. "I didn't know what was wrong. All I had to drink was a soda - just a plain soda, nothing added. I usually kept a glass of it behind the bar to try and keep all the cigarette smoke washed out of my throat." She shrugged again. "I have a vague memory of Hank, the bartender, hauling me out of the bar to his car. The next thing I remember is him dumping me on the front porch and you jumping on me as soon as I walked in the door." She couldn't tell him that she didn't know if anything had happened between the time she and Hank had left the bar and when she landed on the front porch. Her body didn't show any indications, but she just couldn't be sure. The not knowing was part of the reason she was so scared.

"What about the smell of alcohol and marijuana that covered you last night? How can you explain that?"

"I don't know, Duncan. I really don't. I know the bar reeked of pot. But I promise I didn't smoke anything or drink anything alcoholic."

The tears that had welled up in her eyes were now spilling down her cheeks. Duncan sighed and pulled Amber close for a comforting hug. "It's okay. I believe you."

After several moments, he pushed Amber away until he was holding her at arms length. He lifted her chin until she was looking at him. He was still furious with her, but now wasn't the time to give in to his temper. He knew he had to tread carefully. "You're a smart young lady, so I don't think I have to tell you how stupid and dangerous that was."

Duncan released her chin as she shook her head. "No, I got that."

"Good," he said as he took a step back. The expression on his face was the most serious she'd ever seen. Amber had never been afraid of Duncan, but she shivered at the chill that coursed down her spine. "You'd better be glad I've already spanked you once today, or I'd blister your ass. You do anything that stupid again, and I'll see to it you won't sit down for a week. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Amber replied meekly, unable to meet Duncan's angry gaze.

He nodded. "You're grounded for two months. I will drive you to school and pick you up. You will come to the gallery every day after school. No telephone, no computer or television." Duncan paused. "You are going to have to re-earn my trust. Until you do, you are going to be on a very short lease."

After Amber nodded her understanding, Duncan's expression softened. He pulled her back into his embrace for another hug. This one was meant to comfort himself as much as it was meant to comfort her. "You should have known that you could tell me anything at any time, especially something like this," he said into Amber's hair. "I would have taken care of the problem before it got this far. Tell me where to find Snake and I'll take care of him. He won't bother you anymore."

Amber pulled away from Duncan's embrace and went to stand in front of the window. "He has a house on Arnow Street. It's where all of his "workers" stay. When I was there, he came by several times a day. I don't know where he lives, but his lieutenant, Johnny, lives there and might now how to contact Snake."

"Fine, I'll work with that information."

As she started to leave the room, Amber turned back to look at Duncan. He was standing behind his desk staring out the window.

"Duncan?"

At the sound of his name Duncan turned to look at Amber. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thank you. You probably won't believe me, but I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. I don't even want to think about what my life would be like if you hadn't taken me in."

Before Duncan could answer, she left the room.

"I believe you, Amber."

* * *

Three days later, Duncan had tracked Snake to the house on Arnow Street. After staking out the house to determine the other man's routine, Duncan was sitting in his thunderbird about a block away from the house. Snake had entered the house about an hour before. Duncan planned to wait until Snake left and then confront him. Before the day was over, Snake would be about a foot shorter.

Snake finally emerged from the house and started walking up the street. Duncan followed on foot, staying just out of sensing range. When Snake entered a deserted warehouse area several blocks from the house Duncan made his move. The sudden sensation of a nearby immortal caused Snake to stop in his tracks. He groaned and pressed his hands to his temples to try and stop the sudden pain slicing through his head.

Duncan pulled his katana free of his coat and approached Snake.

"I warned you to get out of town. I also warned you to stay away from Amber. You should have listened. Now you die."

The pain in his head having subsided to a dull ache, Snake turned to face Duncan. "You; I should have known. Every time you're around I get a headache. I told you once that what I do with Amber is none of your business." Snake pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. "It looks to me that you're the one in danger of dying. Somehow, I don't see you killing me with that thing," Snake nodded toward Duncan's katana, "before I shoot you. Besides, I'm a hard man to kill. Others have tried and failed."

"You have no idea what you are, do you?" Duncan shook his head in disbelief. "You have no concept about your immortality or the rules of the game. That's unfortunate, but it's not going to stop me. I'm still going to take your head. It's just too dangerous to let you go and give you the opportunity to grow stronger." Duncan raised his katana into the ready position and began advancing toward Snake.

"Immortality? Game? Take my head? You're fucking crazy, man." Snake backed away from Duncan. He raised and fired his gun. The bullet caught Duncan in the left shoulder.

Duncan grunted and looked down at the blood spreading across the front of his shirt. "I hope you don't think that will stop me." He continued to advance toward Snake. When he was close enough Duncan kicked the gun from Snake's hand. A follow-up punch to the face with the handle to the katana sent Snake to the ground. Before Snake had a chance to react Duncan raised his sword and severed Snake's head from his neck.

Duncan turned when a scream suddenly broke the silence to see Amber standing a few hundred feet away. Her eyes were wide with shock and she was beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"No! You... you killed him. How could you?"

"Amber, get..." Duncan started to tell Amber to leave, but was overtaken by Snake's quickening before he could get the words out.

Amber watched in horror as bolts of lightening rose from Snake's headless body and danced across the air before striking Duncan, causing him to scream in agony. Windows in a nearby warehouse burst, and fragments of glass shot through the air.

The quickening was mercifully short, but Duncan was still drained of strength. He leaned heavily on his katana and reached out toward Amber.

"Amber, I can explain."

Amber, mute from the horror she had just witnessed, shook her head and backed away from the grisly scene.

Duncan replaced the katana in the special sheath inside his coat and slowly approached Amber. "Please, just let me explain. It will all make sense once I explain it to you. Just give me the chance." She didn't resist when Duncan reached out and took her arm to lead her back to the car.

During the ride home Amber tried to place as much distance between her and Duncan as the confines of the Thunderbird would allow. She continued to stare at him with mute horror. Once they were home, Duncan again took her by the arm and led her into the kitchen. She sat down at the table, and Duncan went to the cabinet and poured two glasses of scotch. He carried them to the table and set one glass before Amber and kept the other one for himself.

"Sip it. I know I've jumped on you about drinking, but I think you need it."

He watched as she raised to glass to her lips and took a healthy sip of the amber-colored liquid. She shuddered as the scotch burned a trail down her throat to her stomach. Duncan swallowed a portion of his own drink and retrieved a sharp knife from the cutlery drawer and a clean dishtowel before sitting down across from Amber.

"Amber, what I am about to tell will seem impossible, but please try and believe me." He swallowed the rest of his scotch and sighed. "I was born over four hundred years ago in Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel in the Highlands of Scotland. I am immortal. I cannot die unless my head is severed from my body, and I heal from almost any injury within minutes." He folded the dishtowel to form a pad and placed it on the table. He then drew the blade of the knife across the palm of his left hand. He wiped the blood away with the dishtowel and placed his hand, palm up, on the table. "Watch."

Amber watched, stunned, as miniature bolts of lightening danced across the open cut on Duncan's palm. The cut healed itself before her eyes, and within minutes the only indication of the injury was the fresh blood on the towel and on the palm of his hand.

"It's impossible. I never would have dreamed that anything like this ever existed. Was Snake...?"

"Yes, he was immortal as well. However, I don't think he was aware of it."

"Then how could you just kill him like that? He never even had a chance."

Duncan got up from the table and went to stand in front of the sink. He stood staring out the window; his hands planted on either side of the sink. "Amber," he said as he turned around to face her, "it wasn't something I wanted to do, but it had to be done. I had two choices. I could leave it alone and keep confronting him about leaving you alone until someone else came along and took his head or he found a teacher. Or, I could take his head now before he found a teacher and learned of his potential. If I had waited until he found a teacher and learned what he was, he had the potential to become truly evil. I just couldn't take that chance, so I took his head." He moved to stand in front of Amber. "I can't ask you to understand it, but please just try and accept it. I've spent almost my entire existence fighting evil. I have killed men and women who have committed some of the most unspeakable acts of horror ever imagined."

The memories of his actions during the dark quickening filled his mind, followed by the memory of his sword severing the neck of his student and best friend, Richie Ryan. Duncan quickly suppressed the memories and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Nothing about our arrangement has to change. You now know my secret, and I hope you will keep it. To tell anyone what you know about me could mean the difference between life and death, for both of us. There are people out there who would see me dead for no reason other than my immortality, as well as those who would think nothing of using you to get to me."

Amber nodded. "I'll keep your secret. I wish I had never learned it, but I did. And I honestly can't say that I'm sorry that Snake is dead. It's a relief to know that I won't have to keep looking over my shoulder wondering when and where he's going to pop back into my life. If it's alright with you, I'd like to continue our arrangement."

Duncan returned to his seat at the table and took Amber's hand in his own. "It's more than alright with me. I cut myself off from all of my friends, mortal and immortal, a few years ago because my immortality put their lives in danger. I'd been rather lonely until you came into my life. It's been wonderful to have someone to care for again."

* * *

One afternoon a few months later Duncan was in the gallery office doing paperwork, and Amber was working in the front. Bryan, Amber's boyfriend, had stopped by to discuss where they were going for their date that night.. The bell over the door tinkled, signaling the arrival of a customer. Duncan paused in his work until he heard Amber greet the new arrival. He had informed the teenage couple that he didn't mind them getting together at the gallery while Amber was working, so long as it didn't interfere with Amber doing her job.

At the sound of the bell, Amber reluctantly excused herself from her conversation with Bryan and went to greet the customer. "Hi, welcome to Undiscovered Treasures. My name is Amber. Please take a look around. If you have any questions just give me a yell, and I'll do my best to answer them."

The customer, a big bear of a man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard, was leaning heavily on a cane. He shifted his weight from leg to leg as though he was nervous. "I'm Joe Dawson, a friend of Duncan MacLeod. I understand he owns this gallery. He wouldn't happen to be here would he?"

Amber wondered if this man was one of the friends Duncan had cut himself off from. No one had ever come into the gallery and announced themselves to be one of Duncan's friends. "He's in the office. I'll go get him. There's a sitting area over there if you'd care to have a seat while you wait."

Duncan had overheard the conversation and had come to stand at the door to his office. "What are you doing here, Dawson?"

Amber sent a confused look at Duncan. She had never heard him be so short with a customer before.

A wide grin split Joe's face. "Mac! Now is that the way to great an old friend?" With a nod of thanks to Amber, he started walking toward Duncan. "After all, it's been years since we've seen each other. And I've come all this way just to find you."

Duncan just nodded as a resigned look of acceptance crossed his features.. "Go ahead and have a seat in the office. I'll be with you in a minute." He walked over to Amber, who, unsure what to do, had gone to stand beside Bryan. " Amber, please bring us some coffee. Then you can close up and leave early for your date. Just be home by midnight."

"Duncan?" Amber asked, her curiosity having quickly changed to concern.

"It's okay," Duncan responded. He rubbed a hand down her shoulder in comfort. "Joe is someone from my past. There's nothing for you to worry about. I'm just a bit surprised to see him."

Amber glanced meaningfully at Bryan, and then back at Duncan. "You're sure that's all it is?" she asked, skeptically.

Understanding her concern, Duncan gave Amber a quick hug. "I'm sure. How about bringing us that coffee so you can get out of here."

"Okay, Dawson. Why are you here and how did you find me?" Duncan asked bluntly after Amber had carried in two cups of coffee and had left the two men alone.

"Do I need an excuse to look up an old friend? Especially after that particular friend disappeared without a trace from Paris? I've had Watchers all over the world looking for you ever since you disappeared after taking O'Rourke's head. Every time someone spotted you, you had already disappeared by the time I came looking for you. After you took Nero's head his Watcher gave me a call and started tailing you. When you took that kid's head, I decided to come check things out for myself."

"I disappeared for a reason, Joe. I was tired of my friends' lives being placed in danger because of me. You can see I'm still alive and well. No one has taken my head. So just go home, Joe. Forget you ever found me. I don't want to have to disappear again, especially now. But I will if I have to."

"Mac, I knew you were still alive when your T-Bird was taken out of storage. That's not the reason I came looking for you. Damn it! You're my friend ,Mac!" Joe used his cane to lever himself to his feet. "And as my friend, I want you in my life. I may not be over four hundred years old, but I am capable of making my own decisions about whether or not my life is in danger and how to handle the situation if it is."

Duncan sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration. "I never said you weren't. But you have to admit, since I found you and your Watchers your life has been threatened more than once. Look at what happened with O'Rourke, not to mention the Watcher Tribunal, Jacob Galanti, Thorne, or Kalas. Need I go on?"

"I get your point, Mac. But the fact remains I was in a lot of those situations, not because I was your Watcher, but because I was, and still am, your friend. You didn't put me in those situations, I chose to be there."

"After you found out about me and the Watchers, I could have had myself reassigned and someone else assigned to watch you, but I didn't. I stayed your Watcher because I wanted the chance to actually get to know you as a person, not just as the Immortal I'd been observing for over fifteen years. Despite what you may think, and despite the danger my life has been

in because of it, I haven't regretted a minute of it. My life these last few years without you in it has been very lonely. Sure, Methos and Amanda have been around, and I've had the bars in Seacouver and in Paris, but they couldn't take the place of your friendship."

Duncan sighed. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. "Okay, Joseph, you win. Should I expect a visit from Methos and Amanda anytime soon?"

Author's Note: Thus ends History Lessons. However, this story continues in History Lessons II, which I hope to begin posting within the next week or so.


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